<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>At the Beginning by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078691">At the Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, No Incest, No Smut, Polyamory Negotiations, Slice of Life, Threesome - F/M/M, figuring it out, new relationships, only fluff, pretty innocent, totally random but totally treated seriously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:02:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They don’t know what this is, but they’re figuring it out.</p><p>(Featuring non-related teens Robb Stark, Sansa Tully, and Jon Snow.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Robb Stark/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Robb Stark/Jon Snow, Robb Stark/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At the Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>No incest. I repeat: no incest. No one is related in this.</p><p>You know the drill, otherwise -- don't like, don't read, etc., etc.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sansa’s fingers flicked through her social feed, past the endless stream of photos at Winter Beach, where new grads have flocked like seagulls gathering around a half-empty bag of McDonald’s fries. Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel have already texted her multiple times asking her to come, but she just refused the once with a brief ‘thanks but no’ sort of reply. As if their hastily typed stories weren’t enough to get the idea of what she was looking at, the wet’n’wild pictures do the trick. </p><p>There was Theon Greyjoy with his tongue down the throat of a nameless, faceless girl, and Dacey Mormont on her hands and knees, visibly wasted and laugh-crying at the camera, and a boomerang of Smalljon doing shots off the floor. </p><p>Sansa sat there in the wicker chair in Robb’s backyard and let herself feel, for a moment, and reflect. Did she regret not going? For her whole high school life, all she’d heard about was the trip to Winter Beach that was as dreaded by locals as it was revered by high schoolers coming fresh off prom night. It was a tradition, a mark of social status to attend the festivities. Everyone who was anyone, that sort of thing. </p><p>And there she sat instead, with her feet tucked under her, slumping comfortably in place as she sipped at her rum and coke that Robb had made for her -- which was mostly rum -- watching as Jon heckled Robb over the fire pit. </p><p>“That’s not--” Jon bent at the waist as he laughed. “Robb, nothing’s going to catch that way!” </p><p>Robb, who had piled a heap of twigs and grass and dirt on top of the logs he’d thrown in the pit, scowled. It wasn’t a very angry scowl, Sansa knew. His brow was furrowed, but his mouth kept twisting like he wanted to grin but was too proud to show it. </p><p>“Then you fucking do it!” </p><p>“It’s <em> your </em> house. You should know how--”</p><p>“I <em> do </em>know how!” </p><p>“--nothing is going to light with a pile of dirt thrown--”</p><p>“Just because it’s not how <em> you </em>do it, jackass.” </p><p>“It’s not how <em> anyone </em>does it. You’re literally helpless.” </p><p>Robb was standing now, hands on his hips like a scorned housewife, and Jon only doubled over again, cracking up in renewed fervor. Their shouts blended together as their arguing descended into name calling, and then wrestling, and suddenly Sansa was watching them chase one another across the lawn, dipping in and out of the treeline surrounding the backyard. </p><p>A feeling settled in her heart, warm and soft, until she was so full of content that she thought she might burst. It fights back the cool summer evening breeze and makes her flush with childish pleasure. A drink dangling in her manicured fingers -- or mostly manicured, one of her white almond-shaped nails has broken off -- and the sound of whatever oldies music Robb dug out for them spinning away on his dad’s vinyl player just inside the house. </p><p>The hot dogs Robb promised to cook them sat on the picnic table, all but forgotten, and Sansa knew she’d have to get up and build the fire herself soon because Lord only knows the two of them won’t get around to it any time soon, but she wasn’t mad. How could she be mad? </p><p>How could she be mad seeing her two favourite people in the whole entire world feeling so happy? How could she be mad knowing that they had the weekend to themselves, the weekend to hang out and play video games and eat way too much food? If they were in Winter Beach, Robb would’ve had to spend time with Smalljon and Theon and the other jocks, and Jon would’ve probably been dragged off by his track buddies, Pyp and Grenn, and Sansa would’ve been stuck doing God only knows what with Jeyne and Beth. They would’ve only seen each other in passing, in groups with others, never just the three of them. </p><p>And if she was given the choice? Sansa would always pick just them. </p><p>Robb and Jon were bounding over to her now, out of breath and laughing. They were both wearing jeans and a sweater like some weird commercial for American Eagle. Even the lighting was right, with the late evening sun low and warm and casting tall shadows in their wake. </p><p>Without warning, without thought, Robb slung an arm over Jon’s shoulders. Mussed his black curls, the ones he teased Jon over so often. Sansa felt her heart ache at the sight, because Jon still gets a little bit stiff at being touched, still isn’t quite okay with it since his mom died, and Robb and Sansa <em> know </em>it. They know it, and Robb was touching Jon in just a way that was affectionate without being pushy, loving without being forceful. </p><p>It made her heart hurt in the best of ways. </p><p>Robb looked up and whistled, impressed. “Holy shit, look at that <em> fox.”  </em></p><p>Jon grinned, and Sansa sipped her drink to hide her blush when she realized he was talking about her. That was another thing -- Sansa had her school sweater on, and leggings, and Birkenstocks with obnoxiously fluffy socks. She wore no makeup, her hair in a bun that was disheveled and a bit greasy, and -- in a move that likely would’ve shocked and appalled her mother -- wore no bra underneath it all. If it were anyone else calling her pretty in any way at that moment, Sansa would’ve accused them of being rude, but there was only fondness to be found in Robb’s face. </p><p>“This fox wants to eat,” Sansa said, pointing at the forgotten food. “Are you going to cook them or should we head inside for the grill?”</p><p>“No!” Robb rushed over, snatching up the wieners protectively. “No one’s going inside! We are having a <em> cookout, </em>Sansa. That means no indoor technology! Blasphemy!” </p><p>Sansa grumbled under her breath. “I’d rather be blasphemous than starve, you ass.”</p><p>Before anyone could do any cooking, the opening twanging notes of <em> Try and Love Again </em> strummed gently from the speakers. Robb stretched a hand out to Sansa, a comically dramatic pout twisting his mouth as he belted the words, warbling and off-key, dancing his way to her. </p><p>
  <em> “When you’re out there on your own, where your memories can find you.”  </em>
</p><p>“Stop,” Jon begged, collapsing in the chair next to Sansa. “Please, no one deserves this, Robb.” </p><p>“I’ll have you know I sing like an angel.” Robb paused to lift up his beer, knock it back and toss the empty glass on the table next to Sansa. “Fuck you very much. Now come here, darling.” Robb tugged at both of Sansa’s hands until she was standing, and then he tugged some more until she was pressed to his chest, his hands looped casually over her waist. Sansa mirrored him, fingers laced against his lower back, holding him loosely as she smiled shyly up at him. </p><p>Robb’s head was tipped down to look her in the eye, his face soft. “This is a <em> great </em> song,” he told her solemnly. </p><p>“You say that about every Eagles song.” </p><p>“That’s because it’s true of every one!” he protested through a grin. <em> “One by one, the lonely feelings come.”  </em></p><p>Sansa joined in despite herself. <em> “Day by day, they slowly fade away.”  </em></p><p>“Ridiculous,” Jon muttered from his chair, head tipped back to the sky as he lit a joint and inhaled. “The pair of you.” </p><p>Robb shifted his hold until one of his hands was holding Sansa’s, and the other holding her close. “Ignore him -- he’s just jealous he didn’t think of it first.” </p><p>“Is that true?” Sansa teased. “The night is young, Jon!” </p><p>But Jon didn’t look bothered in the slightest. In fact, Sansa thought it was maybe the mellowest she’d ever seen him, joint tucked between his lips, eyes heavy on them. Maybe it was the weight of his gaze, maybe it was the smell of Robb’s hair -- or maybe it was the rum lighting a fire in her belly. Either way, Sansa felt something dark and glorious take hold then. The little seedling that had been planted in her heart years and years ago, back when she first attended kindergarten and made fast friends with two little boys who lived on her street, sprouted into a sapling overnight, into a sturdy tree with deep roots. A feeling, warm and excited and heady and new, crept up on her, so unstoppable, so lush and rich.</p><p>Desire. </p><p>The song came to an end and Sansa pushed Robb to the food before he could twirl her back in for another dance. “Food,” she begged.</p><p>“<em> Meat </em>. Now,” Jon agreed, doing his best caveman impression.</p><p>In the end, Robb nearly charred the hotdogs and Jon dropped the bag of buns twice. Sansa spilled her drink on Jon’s knee and nearly set fire to her shoes when she let them rest by the fire too long. They ran out of beer, and a fly landed in the bottle of Coke, and when the record stopped playing, no one even bothered to get up to turn it over and play the other side. </p><p>It was the best dinner she had enjoyed in a very long time.</p><p>“Do you remember the first time we ever went camping, the three of us?” Sansa asked with a grin, and Robb immediately groaned.</p><p>“I do indeed,” Jon said with a satisfied smirk. “Any memory in particular you’re thinking about?” </p><p>“I hate this story,” Robb snapped. “I really do. I really, really <em> hate--” </em></p><p>“Jon, do you remember when Robb announced he was going for a stroll <em> by himself </em>--”</p><p>“Seriously. Hate this.” </p><p>“--and,” Sansa giggled, “and he texted us an hour later to tell us he’d gotten lost, and we had to go find him.” Jon was outright laughing now. “And we ended up calling the camp rangers to help us--”</p><p>“And it turned out he was one lot over the whole time,” Jon finished, nodding his head in amusement. </p><p>“Ten minutes away,” Sansa said, recalling the unimpressed words of one of the camp rangers who had returned Robb to them. </p><p>Both he and Sansa were giggling when Robb reached down, plucked a few blades of grass and flicked it in their direction. “Piss off,” he grumbled, trying valiantly to hide a small grin of his own. </p><p>The three lapsed into a comforting silence after that, as the sun sank low and the moon sprung up in the night sky. As the night stretched on, only the sound of their sporadic conversation broke up the sound of flames crackling and crickets chirping in the forest. </p><p>“Getting chilly,” Robb murmured at last, eyes affixed to the dwindling fire, much like the rest of them.</p><p>“Alright. C’mere,” Jon patted his knee and stretched out an arm and Sansa’s breath caught in her throat because oh my god this was still <em> so new. </em>Like a newborn babe, not even swaddled yet. It didn’t stop Robb from pushing himself off the ground and obligingly flopping into the chair with Jon, half in his lap, half out. “You too,” Jon said to her, his other arm reaching, fingers wiggling for her. </p><p>Sansa couldn’t stop the giddy, nervous inhale as she pushed her chair closer, folded herself under Jon’s arm as best she could with the armrests in the way. It wasn’t comfortable, not in the slightest but she was supremely reluctant to be the one to call this off and separate. Not when Jon had an arm slung warmly across her shoulders. Not when Robb was holding her hand in his, playing with her fingertips with both of his hands, his head nestled under Jon’s chin. </p><p>They lasted all of five minutes before one of them groaned. “We should move this to the couch,” Robb mumbled sleepily, staring at the campfire. “Can’t be comfy for Sans.” </p><p>“Seconded,” Jon said.</p><p>“Thirded.” Sansa hopped onto her feet. “You guys put the fire out, I’ll take the food in.” </p><p>“I’ll get the chairs,” Jon said through a yawn. </p><p>They worked in easy silence, putting everything away as clouds rolled in and blocked the moon. Years of friendship had built this, built this camaraderie, this understanding between them. Sansa knew acutely that it was frowned upon, this sort of thing. Knew she was inviting trouble, knew her mother would be less than pleased when it all came to light (and Sansa wasn’t fool enough to think it wouldn’t). </p><p>But asking her to live without either Robb or Jon was like asking the rain not to fall or the sun not to rise. It was like asking her to live without her heart. They’d had their share of trials in their teen years, had paid the price of smarmy gossip and judgmental peers, but no more. Sansa refused to let another person stop her from being happy, and if that meant making some people uncomfortable, then so be it. </p><p>When everything was put away, and once the dogs had been let outside for a final time that evening, the party relocated to the living room to flop onto the couches and throw on whatever movie Jon found them that was Sansa-approved <em> (“I’m not watching anything scary.” “Sansa, please, this isn’t even that bad.” “You guys said that about the Shining and I swear I’ll never trust you ever again. We’re not watching anything scary.” “Ugh, fine.”) </em>. </p><p>An unspoken agreement had Sansa crawling into the middle seat, bracketed by her two boys as they laughed and cheered over the film of choice. During a lull, Sansa found her mind start to wander, as it normally did. She twisted about until she was slumped in Jon’s arms, her thighs across Robb’s lap.</p><p>“Do you think we should talk about it?” she asked quietly as the movie came to an end. Over her head, she sensed Robb and Jon’s eyes connect, and the latter planted a feather soft kiss to her cheek. </p><p>“I think,” Jon said slowly, breath in her ear. “We have <em> all </em> summer to figure it out.”</p><p>“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” Sansa murmured, pressing herself closer into them. Jon had an arm slung around Robb’s shoulders, his fingers twined in one ruddy curl. The other wrapped securely around her torso, cradling her close to his heart.</p><p>“Aye,” Robb smiled, one hand curled over her thigh. “Sounds like a nice way to spend the summer.”</p><p>No one spoke for a moment, until Jon sucked in a deep breath of air and said, “I know this much. I know that you two make me happier than I’ve ever been. I know that I’m my best self with you and… I know that I love you two, more than anything.”</p><p>Sansa couldn’t see his face, but Robb did, and something there made him frown, not with unhappiness but concern, a gentle ache. Sansa didn’t understand the cause until she heard a wet sniffle, until Robb lifted a hand to Jon’s face, thumb sliding over his cheek. </p><p>She twisted in their arms then until her front was against Jon’s chest, reaching up to drape herself around his neck, Robb pressed in behind her so the three had their arms around each other in the most intimate group hug she’d ever experienced. “<em> I </em>love you two,” she said fiercely, earnestly, inexplicably possessed by a need to make them understand the depth of her love, the volume and passion and permanence of it.</p><p>Robb’s arms tightened around both of them. “I love you two, too.” </p><p>“Us two too?” Jon echoed with a choked laugh. Sansa pushed her nose into his cheek, enjoying the feel of his hand wrapping in her curls. </p><p>“<em>Shh</em> Jon, don’t ruin the romance.” </p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” Jon sighed in her ear. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>